Clamor

Hotel in a convention town late
loud laughing like waves of traffic
they burst into the next room arguing
filling it with ongoing undone noise
of course had to have the tv on
high enough to cut dully through
all the talk and then ramped up
their voices to carry low over
the tv’s ongoing sandwiches
of thud-patter between laugh tracks
without any of them hearing it
escalate as the feedback swelled
the levels of hardly necessary and
called-for wall-piercing din of being
noticed excessively for a moment
with male and female frequencies
intertwined in competition until the
certainly suddenly sound of murderous
clamor of shovels consorting
disordered as crash wild as trash
the table-pounding punctuation
peaked when the suite exploded
and they laughed and laughed
going up and coming down
in thumping anticlimax before
going to bed to get up tomorrow
for more of the same.

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About mrsorenson

all over the place
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